


Demons and the Devil

by Nekhs



Series: Living After LIFE [4]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Venom (Comics), Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Character(s), Catholic Matt Murdock, Hunters & Hunting, Injured Superheroes, Knife Collecting, Matt Murdock is Blind, Minor Eddie Brock/Venom Symbiote, POV Alternating, POV Outsider, POV Third Person Limited, Schizophrenia, Stabbing, Superheroes, Superheroes are Weird, Superheroes with Disabilities, What's That?, cannibalism mention, self-care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 03:03:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17859023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nekhs/pseuds/Nekhs
Summary: Hell's Kitchen, while no longer the hive of scum and villainy it had once been, is still the kind of place where bad things have a habit of happening to good people, which makes it a lovely hunting ground for a (cannibalism-optional) vigilante.Matt had tried to give up being Daredevil. On nights like these, he really wished he could have succeeded.





	1. Scream

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This work is a direct sequel in the ["Living After Life"](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1197898) series, but can be read on its own (I think?) coherently enough. It's meant to serve as something of a bridge between "Outreach," the next fic in the series, and ["Observation,"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16771552/) the previous fic. 
> 
> Mostly, you just need to know that Dawn (Donna Diego) is a schizophrenic teenager who's developed a friendly relationship with her symbiote, and has been legally adopted by Movie!Eddie, who has far less cause to mistrust V's many, many kids.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Scream neither is a hero, nor needs one.

When two thugs pulled the girl into an alley, Matt had already been following her.

She was new to Hell’s Kitchen, looking around like the world’s most confused tourist. Her hands were tucked neatly into her pockets, her posture relaxed, her heartrate even, despite the late hour. If anything, she genuinely seemed like she’d decided to take a casual stroll through every dimly-lit back alley in the neighborhood.

Anyone else might have actually even bought the act. The two muggers certainly had. 

Matt, however, ‘saw’ the world in a different light. There was something  _ off _ about it, something in the too-quiet footfalls, in the subtle swirl of liquid just under every breath - but he wasn’t  _ sure _ until they grabbed her. Her heartbeat didn’t spike. She let out a puff of air that honestly sounded a bit bored, maybe even offended. 

He made his way down into the alley, intending to help anyway. Liquid surged like an angry ocean, spilling through skin. One of them screamed - the other didn’t get the chance. He caught the sounds of strangled gasps, and then metal crumpled.

The girl let out a light sigh, then turned to glance at him. She was holding a knife in a loose grip, one she hadn’t had previously. “Hullo,” she said, not seeming terribly surprised. “Is this your territory, then, devil-man?”

He had - figuratively speaking - seen some real shit in his nights as Daredevil. Thus far, it had mostly skipped Lovecraft. Even the business with the Hand had been more about what deranged humans were willing to do than - well -  _ whatever _ he was witnessing.

At this range, he could feel the warmth rolling off of her in waves. Her core temperature was far above normal. At some points, it spiked further: a knot of heat was coiled at the base of her skull, and thick cords of it extended outward in a serpentine imitation of hairs that were still coiled gently around the fallen muggers. 

So, yeah, he hadn’t really been ready for any of  _ that. _

She tucked the knife into a pocket, and the tendrils retracted until the swirling liquid was swimming beneath her skin. 

Finally, he found the words he was looking for: “I’m sorry, what the _fuck_ am I looking at here?”

“Nothing?” She didn’t sound particularly certain of that, confusion audible in her tone. “Sorry,” and here, her heartbeat spiked again. “Sorry, that’s rude. Didn’t mean offense.”

He responded automatically. “It’s fine.”   


Did she  _ know? _ How could she? Still, she relaxed at the reassurance, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “We know what you meant, anyway.” 

_ We? _

She held up one finger, her head tipping back as though she was looking up. The strange liquid swirled almost violently around her organs, and she shook her head. “Shh, sh. It’s fine, we’re fine. You - ah - “ She looked toward him. “You wanna talk about - all this - elsewhere? They won’t sleep forever.”

It was kind of refreshing to meet another vigilante that didn’t jump straight to murder. Too bad about the whole eldritch horror thing.

“You know what? Sure. Do you have somewhere?”

She shrugged, turning one way, then the other, before stepping up to the nearest building. “Up?” 

A part of him expected  _ something _ impossible, but he didn’t quite figure on her completely ignoring gravity. She placed one foot on the wall, tested her hold, and then began to walk up it as though it was just another street.

Her movements were tense, a bit uncertain, but growing more confident by the step.

“Up,” he repeated, trying to keep his disbelief from his tone, before following - albeit taking a slightly more indirect route.

 

* * *

 

Scream hadn’t exactly  _ not _ been looking for a fight, was the thing.

These days, if they really wanted to scout without a confrontation, they could just go invisible, but - well - there had been the nightmares, and Sunny, in particular, needed an outlet. They needed to hunt, and Dawn wanted to let them.

Now that they’d settled, Sunny had a bit more input.  **The devil-man’s eyes weren’t moving.** They sounded idly curious about that, particularly since the rest of his body moved with perfect confidence.

Up, onto a dumpster, onto the fire escape, and then he took the stairs two at a time.

He didn’t make the same kind of time that they did, but he was managing faster than they expected, all the same. “Maybe he’s blind,” Dawn replied with a shrug. The horned mask had shiny, kind-of reflective, kind-of transparent eyespots -  _ lenses. _ It was entirely possible they were just decorative, wasn’t it? “Isn’t our business, not really.”

“And how would you know?” He finally crested the rooftop, moving with familiar ease.

She grinned. “Usually, there’s a bit more screaming, is all. Took you a bit longer, to get to the whole … “ She gestured vaguely, one-handed, “‘Oh God, oh God, what is that?’ Part of the conversation?”

The screaming, the terror, the shock of turning the tables on predators turned prey - Scream enjoyed the hunt, rather a lot. They’d been debating on eating the pair, when they noticed the devil-man. It wasn’t exactly that they had a problem with consuming their prey - but the  _ witnesses _ would object, and  _ that _ was against the rules. They couldn’t get caught.

His lips twisted in a smile as he processed their response, like he was trying not to laugh. “You wanted to talk?”

“Not really,” she admitted, turning away. She folded her hands behind her head, walking to the far side of the building. “But, we’ll be around for a few months, and  _ you’ll _ get annoying if we don’t sort things out now, so we’re gonna go ahead and do that, you know?”

He raised an eyebrow, but they weren’t supposed to be able to see that, what with the mask. Sunny could perceive things through  _ walls; _ a couple of centimeters of bulletproofing wasn’t enough to dull their senses. “You think so?”

“Uh-huh.” She blew a strand of hair out of her face, angling her head and directing the strand to tuck itself neatly with the others, just behind her ear. “People who wear masks, hunt bad guys - you all kinda - don’t really give up. It’s what makes you all heroes, or whatever.”

His other eyebrow joined the first. “And that’s not what you’d call yourself.”

“Do we  _ look _ like a hero?”

The lopsided smirk became a broad grin. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Right, right.” She waved her left hand, vaguely, before tucking it back behind her head. “You want our dads for hero stuff,” she explained. “They even saved the world, this one time.” Up onto the ledge, and they looked down, curious. “It’s pretty up here. Lots of lights. Everything down there looks so small.”

A tiny noise escaped him, surprise, maybe. “I wouldn’t know that, either,” he said softly. “So - if not a hero - what are you?”

“Mm, we’re - nothing  _ that _ special.”

He sounded a bit dumbstruck. “You actually  _ believe _ that.”

“Kind of?” She considered, rolling the words through her head. “Let us - rephrase,  _ Dawn _ isn’t anything important. Just a person, with problems. Sunny’s a - well, a little weird, I guess.” A shiver of humor rolled through the golden shadow inside of her. “A lot weird,” she corrected, with a fond smile.

 

* * *

 

_ Weird. _ That was a hell of a word for it.

The kid sounded confused, a bit, but there was something in her words, something in her pronoun choices. When she drew a clear delineation between “I” and “we,” he had an - admittedly  _ weird _ \- idea of what was going on. 

Liquid swirled idly under her skin, sounding not  _ quite _ unlike water.

Admittedly, ‘weird’ was a pretty apt description of the entire situation. He hadn’t quite hit his nightly limit for insanity just yet, however, so he decided to keep asking questions. “How weird?”

“We can show you, if you want.” She smiled, shyly, the expression clearly audible. “Won’t hurt you. You’re nice.”

He made a note of that. She  _ knew _ she was dangerous, knew she  _ could _ hurt someone, probably had done so before. ‘Won’t’ implied a degree of certainty that she still  _ could,  _ and was just choosing not to. “You know what? Sure, kid. Show me.” He peeled his gloves off, wincing at the light sting as cold air struck his bruised and bloodied knuckles.

She hopped down, her footfalls light, nearly silent even to his hearing. “Here,” she said, reaching out to take his hand in both of her own. God, but her hands were  _ small, _ rough with scars and calluses. A faint, prickling sensation buzzed against his skin everywhere she touched, subtle, probably not even noticeable to the average person.

What an  _ ordinary _ person could have discerned, however, was the heat. Compared to the frigid, late-November air, she was practically on fire. “You’re burning up, you know that?”

“Mhm,” she said softly. “Normal, for us. Shh.” 

Her heartrate pricked up, and her breathing as well - she sounded nervous. A faintly metallic scent wafted into the air, something that tasted a bit like burning ozone, tinged with chemicals he couldn’t identify. “Weird,” she reiterated, and the swirling liquid concentrated under her fingertips. It pressed through her skin, not quite wet. The myriad scars and imperfections gave way to perfect, flawless silk, tipped in long, sharp talons. 

Matt forced himself not to let go of her hands, merely moving them away from her claws. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Weird.”

The swirling liquid trailed up her arms, and he could hear the way it crawled through her skin, all over, displacing her loose-fitting clothes only slightly. The serpentine ‘hair’ was just as warm as the rest of her, made of the exact same substance, if he was any judge, moving idly. “I can - ah - definitely see why other people might find this all a bit  _ unsettling. _ ”

**“Yeah,”** they agreed.  **“(** You’re taking it better than most people do. **) Did you know that you’re bleeding?”**

Their voice was odd, reverberating from the long tendrils more than any one specific point. Belatedly, he realized that it was two voices, speaking in unison. He quietly added that observation - along with the fact that the softer tone sounded almost identical to the girl’s normal voice - to the pile of evidence that he was speaking to some kind of composite entity.

“Occupational hazard,” he said, pulling his hands back. He’d been injured in - probably a few places, actually, but his hands were the freshest. God knew, he’d had enough cuts and bruises for a couple of lifetimes - he barely noticed, anymore.

**“We can - ”** They hesitated, and he realized that they weren’t actually  _ breathing. _ Their human heartbeat was almost drowned out by the back-and-forth rush of the heavy, metallic, not-quite-water swirling around them, through them, but their lungs didn’t seem to be operating at  _ all _ . That complicated his ability to read them, a bit, but not too terribly. 

They apparently thought better of whatever they were going to say, looking down and away. **“Can you - ”** There was uncertainty in their voice.  **“You don’t** **_move_ ** **like you’re blind,”** they said, finally.  **“How do you - ”**

He smiled, playfully. “What makes you think I’m blind, anyway?”

**“We know,”** they replied, firmly.  **“Lies taste - sour, in the air,”** they announced suddenly. **“If we didn’t know before, we’d know now. It - ”** They shifted their weight, rocking back and forth, tendrils pulsing around them.  **“Sunny doesn’t see like humans see, they’re - weird. (** Like I said. **) Like we said. They um - we can see through walls, a little ways, and sense further than that, and - your eyes don’t move at all. (** You’re human. Strong, fast, but - more or less human. **) And blind.”**

That was - reassuring. “More or less?”

**“... With an aftertaste?”** Their talons came up, absently, tucking into a maw that had been closed until that very moment. Apparently, the kid was a nail-biter. **“Dunno how to explain it. More human than uhm, Captain America was, though, or the spider boy.”**

Well. That was a hell of a comparison. 

He felt a bit of a twinge of anxiety, realizing that if they could sense what his eyes were doing behind his mask, its absence would hardly matter if they ran into one another as ordinary civilians. That would be a problem for future Matt, though, and he suspected that a very similar concern had prompted this line of inquiry.

“My other senses are a lot stronger than most peoples’,” he explained. “And I trained harder to get where I am. That’s all.”

There was a moment of hesitation, before they shrugged, extending their right hand.  **“We’re Scream,”** they announced, voice firm.

“Daredevil,” he replied, accepting the handshake.

Scream’s fangs bared in a smile, and an impossibly long tongue snaked out to run along terribly sharp teeth. **“Do you mind if we hunt in your territory, Mr. Devil? Good hunting, here.”**

“No killing,” he replied, by sheer force of habit. “If you want to - uh -  _ hunt _ in Hell’s Kitchen, I’m going to have to ask that you don’t kill anyone.”

Amusement tinged their tone, the same kind of indulgent indifference that Elektra had used, once upon a time.  **“No killing,”** they agreed, however. God help him.  **“Any other rules, Mr. Devil?”**

“Try not to maim anyone who doesn’t deserve it, and if you find anything you even  _ think _ you might not be able to handle alone, come find me. Okay?”

They stuck out that tongue, blowing a raspberry.  **“No killing,”** they repeated, holding up one of their talons. **“No maiming if they’re not bad people, and if we get into trouble, get help. We can do that. Anything else?”** A second talon joined the first, and then a third.

“Nah. Be careful, but - welcome to Hell’s Kitchen.”

It was only when he was settling into bed that Matt’s misgivings caught up to him.

  1. Scream was a _kid,_ under that alien shell, and a small, fragile one at that.
  2. They’d treated his rules about maiming and murder with a kind of worrying indifference, as though such limitations were - although common - not particularly important to them.
  3. Nobody became a vigilante without some pretty heavy baggage. He’d bet his left arm that this ‘Sunny’ creature was part of that baggage. And, finally,
  4. Matt wasn’t entirely certain he could stop them, if they decided to break their word.



 

Well. That was a problem for future Matt - possibly (probably) at future Matt's next confession. 

God help him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look, it's those nerds.
> 
> There's a nice little bit of foreshadowing in here, if you squint.
> 
> Next chapter will be a bit longer, and contains a sizeable summation of The Story So Far. It's going up on Thursday night / Friday morning and then we'll be heading into the next fic!


	2. Venom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Eddie Brock did not ask to get stabbed, okay.

For the record, Eddie Brock actually  _ did _ understand that he was no longer welcome in New York City. 

A man putting a gun to his head and suggesting that he found himself elsewhere, unless he wanted to find himself in a shallow grave - that was pretty persuasive stuff, okay. Plus, like, that time he'd gotten into a fistfight with a half-dozen of the city’s (off-duty, or it wouldn't have been a fistfight) thugs in blue for (entirely accurately!) accusing them of corruption? 

Yeah, he didn't really have a ton of friends in this city, and he knew it.

But, well.

It had been a long fucking year, okay. 

First, he lost his job, ruining Annie's career and his own life in the process. 

Then (because Eddie Brock is constitutionally incapable of leaving well enough alone) he kept digging until he dug up space aliens and mad science and pretty much got run over by the best thing in his entire life. 

(He loved V, probably always would, but seriously, they had both ended up dying for a little bit there. Not exactly a great first date.)

And then, after all of that had been resolved, he found out that his goo-spouse had been forced to have a half-dozen children, and he ended up adopting the better half of their spawn as his own. He even made it official in one particular case by literally signing the paperwork to claim the kid as his legal dependent and heir to his newly acquired wealth.  

(Apparently,  getting fucked over by mad scientists was one way to end up with a six figure payout. Go figure. )

It had been a busy year in San Francisco, okay. He'd even run into Ant-Man one time. 

Crazy.

His little family ended up moving to a nice little place out in Virginia, a house that didn't entirely look like it _wasn't_ haunted, because it had a statistically lower chance of catching on fire spontaneously. 

Naturally, God Himself (or rather more accurately, literal Nazis(?!)) had to send a guy with a flamethrower to burn the place down. 

Eddie Brock was kind of an asshole, you see, and karma has always been a bitch. 

None of this would have led to him getting his ass beaten behind a New York City bar, however, if it hadn't been for the Avengers.

Apparently, becoming a slightly cannibalistic - these days it was more like cannibalism-optional - vigilante put you on certain people's radar. 

Which, okay, fair enough.

After working things out with Stark’s little band of misfits, however, they totally had the option of staying up at the Avengers compound until their house could be rebuilt. Leslie had taken that option, after all, and Lasher had decided to stay with her. They made a good team, and they'd be able to mentor Toxin.

The thing was, well - Dawn wasn't exactly well-adjusted. She’d had a rough childhood, and she didn't know how to act like a normal human;  she'd never learned. 

She needed friends her own age. 

Tony Stark was mentoring Spider-Man, who was like twelve (seventeen, apparently) - it was close enough. 

The man had a certain amount of justifiable paranoia that something might happen to the spider kid, and frankly, the boy was such a constant ray of sunshine that it was hard not to want to protect him. Even Eddie caught himself trying to look out for the little guy, and he hadn't even  _wanted_ children until he had them. 

So, the spider kid got two nearly indestructible bodyguards, and Dawn maybe learned how to actually be a teenager. On paper, it looked like a flawless arrangement,  particularly since Eddie's history with New York's seedy underbelly  _ wasn't _ on paper. 

Besides - Venom was practically indestructible. Scream, while a bit unstable, was probably stronger than they were. On the off chance that the people who wanted Eddie dead were even still around, he figured they could deal with them. The plan was to lay low, not draw any attention, maybe hit on the spider kid’s ridiculously attractive aunt a bit.

For the first couple of weeks, it had even been going well! There were some nightmares, but that was pretty much the new normal. 

**Don't like this, Eddie.**

He'd gone out for a drink, with the idea he'd shoot the breeze, maybe catch up with a few people. 

He got the drink all right. 

Then, he got invited out back by a trio of rough-looking thugs with almost as many tattoos as he had. He was trying to get better about minimizing collateral damage, so he accepted their 'offer' with an easygoing smile. Maybe he could get out of this without anyone getting too badly hurt?

Unfortunately, he didn't have that kind of luck.

Goon #1 had a bat. #2 had a tire iron, and #3 had a knife. Venom wouldn't have any trouble at all with this little brawl, but Venom was still trying to lay low. 

So, there he was, with his perfectly human fists held up to shield his face. “You guys don't wanna do this. Trust me.” It was worth a shot.

Naturally, they didn't buy it. 

Why would they? 

He ducked back, out of the way of bat-guy, putting himself in range of tire iron, just long enough for tire iron to take a swing - and move to the side again, that's two of them out of the way -

_ You come out for a fight like this - _ he stepped back again as knife guy took a slash at him -  _ and our cover will be - _

Pain, hot and sharp, radiated from his side. 

Knife guy got in a lucky hit. 

_ “Fuck,”  _ he breathed, and V roared inside of his skull. “This is gonna be bad.”

 

* * *

Blood sprayed. 

“You bet it's gonna be bad,” a man's voice snapped. 

Another man’s voice came, trembling, on the heels of the first. “Jack, look - Jack, man, what is that thing - oh,  _ God, _ I don't wanna die man,  _ I don't wanna die!” _

Flesh tore open. Bone crunched. More blood sprayed. Something massive and heavy threw itself forward. 

The inhuman roar echoed through the streets in response.  **“We will catch you,”** the voice growled.  **“Tear your spine out through your asshole when we do!”** Something huge, heavy, and metal - a dumpster? - clanged its way down the alley.

Once upon a time, Matt had believed that he could just give up being Daredevil. 

On nights like these, he really, _genuinely_ wished for the ability to ignore it when shit like this was going down. But nights like these were when he was needed most: his conscience wouldn't allow him to stand idle when someone was getting murdered. Even a criminal. He ran towards the commotion, only coming up short when he really got a strong idea of what he was up against. The beast stood nearly nine feet tall. It had already killed two men. The third was trembling in its hold, dripping urine down his pant legs, whimpering pitifully. 

They weren't good people, certainly, but they didn't deserve to die.

**“No one hurts our Eddie,”** the voice growled, and - well. At the very least, he could keep it from killing anyone else. 

He cracked his baton across the creature's back, feeling the strike all the way up his arm as he rolled forward, landing on his feet behind it and preparing to run. 

It looked at him, incredulously, and tossed the reeking thug into a wall so hard that bone crunched.  **“Devil-man,”** the voice rumbled. The creature stilled, for a moment, heavy liquid rippling. There was no heartbeat tucked away inside this beast - for all he knew, it was just a monster, now. Its head bobbed in response to something Matt couldn't hear, though.  **“You should run.”**

Over the blood, old garbage, and everything else now coating the alley, he could smell the same, burnt-ozone odor that he'd first scented on Scream.

_ Guess I'll get to see what these things can do up close, _ he thought with a grimace, leading it up the side of a building. Unlike the smaller creature, this one seemed to have a much clearer relationship with gravity: it crashed into the old building with enough force to rattle the windows, claws catching as it dragged itself upward with brute force. 

It was slower than he was, but much, much larger. Every bounding leap landed with terrible force, and Matt was definitely not looking forward to the moment it caught up. 

Especially since it didn't seem to be actually getting tired. 

**“Dad!”**

Oh,  _ fuck.  _

Maybe?

Liquid swirled, catching at the creature chasing Matt, rather than joining its pursuit.  _ What? _

He tucked and rolled, coming up in a fighting pose. He was winded by the chase, but not actually injured at all. The movement behind him felt blurry, but he definitely got the sense that the creature had - at least momentarily - been an oversized puddle.

When it solidified, it was a much smaller figure, masculine in shape, not even winded.  **“You're hurt,”** Scream spoke, voice soft.  **“... can we keep the knife?”**

“Sure, I gue - eh - _eyaugh!_ _Fuck,_ kid, warn a guy next time!” The youth removed a blade from the man's side, and a rush of heavy liquid washed against the weapon, clearing it of blood. Meanwhile, an answering swirl of alien sludge rushed to seal the wound properly. 

Scream's voices sounded genuinely contrite as they spoke.  **“Sorry, Dad.”**

“This the guy you were talking about?” He tilted his head in Matt's direction, no longer seeming particularly intent on murder.

Scream nodded.  **“Uh-huh, the devil-man. He's a hero, like you’re a hero.”**

What the  _ hell? _

Matt relaxed, slowly, uncertainly. “I'm sorry, what exactly is going on here?”

 

* * *

The thing was, Eddie Brock was absolutely V's favorite human on this entire watery rock.

So, for the most part, they were okay with his ever-expanding list of rules. “Only eat bad guys. Don't maim good people. Not all cops are good people but don't eat the bad ones, we don't need that kind of trouble. Here's your own Twitter,  _ please _ stop posting on mine.”

They drew the line at letting Eddie get hurt, though. Someone hurting Eddie meant all bets were off, because while they hadn't fully gotten the hang of human emotions, rage was one they did pretty  _ fucking _ well.

But once the rage wore off, they found themselves holding a pathetic waste of meat and being attacked with a blunt object.

And like - that was funny. Genuinely, this silly little human had decided to prevent the murder of another little human. They hadn't entirely expected that. 

Scream head mentioned meeting a man dressed up like a devil, and it wasn't much of a stretch to guess that this was the same man. They hadn't really planned to harm him so much as maybe take a measure of his abilities - and, okay, maybe they got caught up in the chase a bit. It had been fun, all right? 

Their offspring had taken to hunting almost nightly, now, bringing back weapons and bits of scrap metal that might have once been guns, so they weren't really surprised to find their hunt interrupted. 

“What exactly is going on here?”

It was a good thing Eddie was driving, now. V didn't really know a good way to explain that they were just playing with their prey.

“Uh,” their host began. “I got stabbed. V doesn't like that. They're - protective.”

The man had a kind of disbelieving expression on his face, as he looked between their host and their offspring. “And the whole … threatening me? Thing?” He was still gasping in as much oxygen as his lungs could manage, and he'd started bleeding, which was very definitely not their fault. Scream had noticed, too, peering at him with concern.

“I didn't wanna still be sitting in a pile of bodies if the police got called, man. Bad enough I probably have to tell Stark that somebody in this city still wants me dead, you know?” He started pacing, burning off that excess, nervous energy. “Didn’t figure you’d wanna stick around for that, either.” V pressed outward, through the skin where Eddie was no longer injured, and twined around his chest, shoulders, and neck, wrapping him in a fond hug before pressing their face against his cheek.

**“Don’t have to tell anyone,”** they suggested.  **“Let them guess.”**

Eddie snorted at their comment. “Yeah, babe, that’ll go over real well. Only takes one kid with a camera to fuck things up in that department.”

**“... Did you know you’re bleeding?”** Scream stepped in, interrupting the conversation with only the thinnest tremor of unease in their voice. They didn’t like drawing people’s attention, but humans only had so much blood in their bodies.  **“Under your armor?”**

The man winced, visibly. “I’m aware,” he said grimly. “It just got reopened, I’ll be fine.”

**“Nuh-huh,”** they said, shaking their head.  **“We can - you should have someone look at that. Do you have someone to look at your injuries?”** Worry tinged their tone; they cared for the people they’d grown to like.

Eddie nudged V, and they nudged him back.  **It’s good they’re making friends,** V replied to the unspoken inquiry.

_ Yeah, but (what if this guy’s a prick) what if it gets them in trouble? _

V’s essence rippled in a vague approximation of a shrug. **If he causes our offspring harm, there is little we will be able to do about it before Scream is done with his remains.**

_ … that’s fair, _ Eddie admitted, a smile playing at his lips.

Apparently, the man knew a nurse, which was a useful contact to have in his line of work.

**“We’ll make sure you get there without dying,”** Scream was saying, insistently.  **“Okay?”** As they spoke, they drew Sunny’s essence back into Dawn’s body, hiding any trace of inhumanity.  **“If you fall down, we can carry** you, and if not, we’ll still feel better about the fact you didn’t get shot or stabbed or anything else.”

The devil-man looked in Eddie’s general direction with an expression of long-suffering. “You’ve got a good kid,” he said, finally. “I’m gonna ask you the same thing I asked - them - can you  _ try _ to avoid killing anybody else in Hell’s Kitchen?”

“No promises, but uh -” Eddie turned his attention to V for a moment.

They let out a low, rolling noise that almost sounded like a sigh.  **“We will do our best,”** they replied.  **“If you harm our offspring and somehow survive, know that we** **_will_ ** **find you.”**

“Right. Well. Uh. Welcome to Hell’s Kitchen.” He offered a strange gesture with his weapon, then broke it in half and placed it in a kind of pocket-thing at his side. “I’m - glad we understand each other.”

They both bared their teeth in matching smiles. **“It’s good to meet you, Daredevil.”**

 

* * *

Matt didn’t exactly get much opportunity to  _ read _ the news, but Foggy called him bright and early, all the same. “Morning?” He stifled a groan at the dull, throbbing ache in his side.

“‘The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen Clashes with the Demon of San Francisco?’ What the hell, man?” 

So, apparently they’d made the paper. Good to know. “Wasn’t quite like that, Foggy,” he muttered, dragging himself out of bed. 

“So, what  _ was _ it like, then?”

He shook his head, frowning slightly. “Honestly? I’m not entirely sure. I met him, though. Decent enough guy.”

“Sure, and Frank Castle isn’t a lunatic.” He could hear the disbelief in Foggy’s tone. 

Matt frowned. “He’s had a rough life, you know? He’s working through it, that’s hardly fair.”

“Look, whatever.  _ This _ guy’s bad news, Matt. Apparently they called the  _ Avengers _ in on this ‘Demon’ - monster - thing? There’s photos, too - it looks like a real winner, let me tell you -  _ and _ a half-dozen YouTube videos of this thing wreaking havoc out in Cali, and  _ this _ one shows it literally  _ eating _ someone, dude. This isn’t some weird ninja thing, all right? You’ve gotta be more careful about this kind of thing!”

Oh. 

Oh,  _ that _ was why he’d called. Okay.

“I’ll be fine, Foggy. But - thanks. For worrying about me. It means a lot.” It still felt kind of weird to have someone checking up on him after a rough night, to see if he was okay - and knowing why he might not be. Next, he’d have Karen knocking on his door - there were her footsteps down the hall. “I’m gonna let you go,” he announced, to cut off any further protest. “Karen’s here, and my luck just isn’t good enough to avoid having this conversation twice in a row.”

He hung up just in time to hear her knocking on the door, a newspaper tucked under one arm, coffee held in the other hand. A smile was playing at his lips, despite his words. 

God, but it was good to have friends who cared about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap. Just a small little thing to kind of recap the story so far and lead into the next long fic. See you Monday (or so)!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> If you liked this, you might also consider checking me out (I'm @Nekhs just about everywhere) on [Tumblr](http://nekhs.tumblr.com), [Twitter](https://twitter.com/nekhs), and [Twitch](https://twitch.tv/nekhs). I do art sometimes, and post self help and status updates mostly, plus streaming video games. 
> 
> Also, there's more Venom fic in the collection!


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